Kleannor

I bought my first Jovoy fragrance as a bottling because my favourite YouTuber at the time kept mentioning it. It was "psychedelics," and at first I found him really hideous. "Les Jeux sont fait", which I bought at about the same time, was much more compatible. And yet: The astringency with which he starts made me distance myself early on. Inspired, however, by others who found his drydown appetizing, he still got a chance.
The initial astringency was still to be overcome at first. (I am now sure that this is the angelica root.) But I found it increasingly attractive and charming, but also very masculine. (A sincere compliment to all the ladies who use the scent!) But what comes next, this tobacco aroma + rum/gin: No, it doesn't smell like a pub. It took me a long time to figure out what I was reminded of: A few years ago I went on an old flat bottom boat on the Jsselmeer and there was this magical moment when I sat below deck and the concentrated smell of old warm wood overflowed me. This moment - and the associated feeling of security - I found again in "Les jeux sont faits". In the meantime it has become my signature scent.

When I got this sample, I didn't know Ajmal at all. The search for it revealed that it was a former Indian company founded in 1951 by Ajmal Ali. In the mid 1970s, he relocated the company to Dubai. In 2004, according to the company, a lot of money was put into the hand once again in order to create a modern production facility that is oriented to European standards.

Unfortunately, I have to say that this - in a negative sense - also applies to Aristocrat. It is a flat, dull, confusable mainstream substance that one is not used to from Arab countries. The word "fragrance" is difficult to say on my lips or in my keyboard, because Aristocrat doesn't smell. Especially not fruity-citric, it smells rather chemical.

Let's smell it

It begins - according to the fragrance pyramid - with bergamot, watermelon and lime. If there's anything to smell, it's the watermelon. Bergamot and lime elude my nose. Luca Turin has already been critical about watermelon as a central fragrance; but even Givenchy (Insense Ultramarine) and Diptyque (Jardin Clos) got more out of it.

There should be musk in the heart and base note. I don't smell - and I'm not cold at the time I write these lines. The oud has also been so ambitious that I get the impression that it has been placed in the scent pyramid so that Aristocrat can be classified as a scent from the Orient.
Was it, for example, consideration for European noses, which occasionally have problems with oud? Or was it the orientation on the European market and its supposed fragrance preferences to get a foot in the door of the competitive market. But with Aristocrat this won't work. Such a flabby oriental scent has come under my nose so far

...I thought. I remember the first time I went through the Dior Homme range in an Amsterdam perfumery. That so many people, including my favourite YouTuber Sebastian from Smelling Great Fragrance Reviews, were overwhelmed with enthusiasm at Dior Homme was completely incomprehensible to me. And yet: I was drawn again and again to this simple, noble, magical bottle. At some point my nose had understood this somewhat rough, distinguished smell, accepted it and actually found it very, very good.
In a direct comparison, I then decided on the Intense version.
This could have been the beginning of a wonderful love, if my skin would not just swallow DHI. Neither Sillage nor durability, which others so appreciate, are convincing with me. What a shame! At the moment only drastic overdosage and frequent replenishment can help.
Maybe like months ago my skin learns my nose how to deal with such a scent.

In painting, Chiaroscuro is called above all in the Baroque period a means of design that reaches depth of expression through contrasts of light and dark.

However, when transferred to the world of fragrance, the term fits just as well. I find it particularly pronounced at Just Rock.

It was designed by Nathalie Lorson, a perfumer born in Grasse, who had good prerequisites for developing a good nose; she had already created treats such as Encre Noir and Bentley Intense. Also with Just Rock she has succeeded in creating an unmistakable fragrance.

First of all, a lot of dark matter rolls on in the form of a concentrated load of incense, which is rounded off by black patchouli. Only after some time does the fragrance lighten in an inimitable way: Is it the vanilla that pushes something sweet, almost fruity, fresh over the dark incense carpet? The fragrance pyramid doesn't give much light; an indication that the perfumers don't really let themselves be seen in their cards. Anyway, I love the fragrance because of this delicate contrast.

Just Rock can easily keep up with scents from niche houses like Laboratorio Olfattivo. Their Nerotic came under my nose the other day. I found it quite similar to Just Rock, even though Nerotics' fragrance pyramid does not explicitly mention incense, but refers to "smoky notes". Sillage and durability I felt at Just Rock just as well, maybe even better.

Unfortunately, Just Rock is on my partner's index. I'm not allowed to wear the scent in her presence. Too smoky, too dark!

In the 80s the black Trussardi Uomo was one of my favourite fragrances. After that I lost sight of the brand.

It seemed to me a good opportunity to take up again the old, happy relationship with Trussardi Red, which was given to me today as a sample in a perfumery. But what a disappointment: TR presents an indefinable ball of odour, which seems conceptless in the end, rather according to the motto "What other ingredients do we have there? What haven't we combined yet? Let's put it together."

I have no idea which groups of buyers you wanted to get with this brew; TR smells somehow pleasant, but you have smelled this kind of chemical mixture so often (in one way or another) that you turn away bored. Most interesting is still the fragrance pyramid, but where should nutmeg, leather and patchouli be?

My old love seems finally lost